


The Girl Who Dances With Moonlight

by felinedetached



Series: The Horrors You See [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cults, Body Horror, Fairy Tale Style, Gen, Gore, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 22:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12803793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felinedetached/pseuds/felinedetached
Summary: Some say she’s a ghost. A spirit looking for her way back home, but the only thing she remembers how to do is dance. Others say she's immortal, and it took her hundreds of years to dig her way out from underground, so of course she’s dancing - she’s celebrating her return to the moonlight. More say she’s the moon’s lover, who has been cast out of the stars onto earth for a terrible transgression, and that dancing in the moonlight is the closest she will ever get to her lover. A very few people are anywhere near close - they say she’s a young girl, chosen for something she shouldn’t have been, and now she’s free and she dances to honour the gods who helped her free herself.





	The Girl Who Dances With Moonlight

Some say she’s a ghost. A spirit looking for her way back home, but the only thing she remembers how to do is dance. Others say she's immortal, and it took her hundreds of years to dig her way out from underground, so of course she’s dancing - she’s celebrating her return to the moonlight. More say she’s the moon’s lover, who has been cast out of the stars onto earth for a terrible transgression, and that dancing in the moonlight is the closest she will ever get to her lover. A very few people are anywhere near close - they say she’s a young girl, chosen for something she shouldn’t have been, and now she’s free and she dances to honour the gods who helped her free herself.

 

No matter what theory one subscribes to, everyone knows to stay away from the cemetery at dark.

 

There are stories of people who walked right up to her as she danced, tried to speak, and instead began dancing themselves. The stories claim those people danced until they died, skin and flesh and bone and muscle all crumbling away into dust, and that the last thing they see is blank, glowing white eyes.

 

There are stories of people who were just passing by, taking a shortcut through the cemetery and ignoring the creepy girl who dances with moonlight amongst the gravestones. Those people claim a searing pain - in their ankle, or their hip, or on their skull - but when examined, they show no signs of injury. When x-rayed, on the other hand, their bones are injured, with partial carvings somehow present despite the lack of any external wound.

 

“Avoid the cemetery at nighttime,” was passed around town soon after that. Everyone knew of the girl who danced with moonlight, but no one would near her.

 

Until one day, one  _ fateful _ day, the girl who danced with moonlight did not leave with the rising of the sun. Instead, she stayed, and for three days she danced day and night. Those who visited graves nearby were unharmed, often claiming to have been blessed - blessed with pregnancy, with money, with tickets to the cruise they could never afford.

 

And the girl who danced with moonlight became the girl who comforted the grieving.

 

* * *

 

There is a woman, who went to place flowers on her mother’s grave. She claims she spoke to the girl who comforted the grieving, and that their conversation went something like this:

 

“Why do you stay here?” the woman had asked, voice soft, not expecting a reply.

 

“Because I must.”

 

“Why must you?” her voice betrayed her concern to any and all listening.

 

“Because I am still grieving, and was called back before my time.”

 

“Who do you grieve for?” now the woman was curious, for who would not be at hearing a spirit claim to grieve.

 

“My lover.”

 

“My condolences.” the statement was genuine, an offer to talk if it was wished.

 

“Mine to you also.”

 

“Who called you?” the woman seemed to only now register the second half of the spirits previous statement, that or it was an attempt to change the subject.

 

“The gods of the void-dark and void-light.”

 

“When is your time?” here, she obviously did not wish to mention that voids can’t be  _ light _ , it's not in their nature. The woman, of course, knows nothing. However, she truly did want to know the answer to the question.   
  
“Not now.”

 

* * *

 

People saw her as patron of the grieving, goddess of truth, lover of the moon.

 

* * *

 

There is a boy, who goes around town, apologising to everyone.

 

“I dug her up,” he says, “I dug her bones up from the ground and now she’s angry.”

 

No one pays him any mind. He is a child, and no one sane would admit to grave robbing, so they ignore him as he sits in alleyways wailing, and they humour his apologies when he gives them.

 

“They were decorated,” he mumbled sometimes, “like someone carved into her bones. I wonder if she was alive when it happened. I wonder if she was awake.”

 

None wanted to think of that, and soon the area in which the boy wandered cleared out the instant he was spotted.

 

* * *

 

Years later, a statue was erected in the town centre. It depicted a girl in flowing robes, who held the moon in her arms and had a grave at her feet.

 

That statue would be torn down by a lady in pink and grey and candy, but they say the town was blessed while it watched over them.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr [@felinedetached](https://felinedetached.tumblr.com/)


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